


if my heart were at peace

by Robinade



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: ASL, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Hot Dad Din Djarin, Kendo Instructor Luke Skywalker, M/M, nonverbal grogu
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-19 07:53:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29747328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Robinade/pseuds/Robinade
Summary: Luke was prepping for the next kendo class when he realized there was someone new hovering at the door.It was a man, broad shouldered and muscular from what could be seen under a dark gray leather jacket. He had short, dark hair and a mustache but his eyes were completely hidden by steel-colored aviators. His thighs looked amazing in those jeans. There was also a tiny little boy clinging to his legs, which was probably more relevant.(rating may increase with later chapters)
Relationships: Din Djarin & Grogu | Baby Yoda & Luke Skywalker, Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker
Comments: 17
Kudos: 127





	if my heart were at peace

**Author's Note:**

> Cara Dune has been recast as [Katy O'Brian](https://robinade.tumblr.com/post/644325523002146816). 
> 
> Also, shout out to [rain_sleet_snow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rain_sleet_snow/pseuds/rain_sleet_snow) and their fic [stuck between history and tomorrow](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29115387), in honor of which I have shipped Cara and Omera in my own fic here.

Activist Leia Organa seen with brother Luke Naberrie (center) and off-duty driver Han Solo (left). Photo credit C. Threepio.

Luke had thought he was done with the desert. He remembered seeing the last of it disappearing in the rear-view mirror of the ‘falcon as they drove away from Tattooine and thinking, _Good riddance_.

Nevarro is a different town, but the dry heat feels the same.

“It’s been a quiet day,” Leia said on a video chat his first night. “We only had three paps try to climb the backyard fence today,” she added brightly.

“Chewie must have had fun throwing them out,” Luke said.

“Almost as much fun as Han had watching him do it,” she agreed. Her smile was mean and he already missed her terribly.

Luke wanted her to tell him that she had changed her mind and he should come back to Coruscant. The media circus that resulted from the implosion of President Palpatine’s administration was stressful, yes, but there was still so much to do. Leia’s insistence that he take a break from the work was frustrating.

“Is Artoo doing ok without me?”

“Your dog is doing fine,” Leia said, exasperated. “He chewed on Cee’s shoes again, but we stopped him before it got too bad. We're all doing fine without you,” she added. “Just… try to take some time to yourself.”

“Like you do?” Luke asked with raised eyebrows.

She picked up her phone to give him a close-up expression of irritation. “Unlike some people, I know how to pace myself.”

Luke chuckled a little. “You’re going to be the youngest senator in history, you know that?” he said in an abrupt subject change, but it was what was on his mind.

Leia shrugged, but he didn’t think she had ever been able to pull off demure. “And you’re going to teach babies how to punch each other in the face. We all have their strengths.”

“There is no punching in kendo,” Luke said, not for the first time and giving her his most aggrieved expression. “And there won’t be any baby classes. I don’t think.”

“Well, you’ll find out tomorrow, won’t you?” she cackled. “Give Cara Dune my love!”

In the morning, he said as much to Cara. She had the star-struck expression that people got about Leia when they had never seen her throw up from drinking too many shots at the victory party. He had been throwing up at the same time, so he didn’t have much more memory of the night than that.

(“You know… I saw you first,” Luke said muzzily.

Han, who was putting a bucket next to his head after covering Luke with a blanket, said, “I know, kid.”

“But I guess Leia can have you,” Luke added reluctantly. “She deserves nice things.”

Han chuckled. “I’m flattered that you think I count as nice. Lando would have a thing or two to say about that.”

“You’ve always been nice to _me_ ,” Luke pointed out. He reached out and patted Han’s face. “That’s a sad face. Why is your face being sad?”

“You’ve got low standards, kid.”)

Cara was drinking coffee with breakfast, but Luke had developed a taste for herbal tea when training with Yoda-sensei. She made the same disgusted face Chewie did at the brew, but didn’t say anything about it. They ate toast and eggs together mostly in silence. Luke didn’t know yet if it was him or if she was just naturally taciturn.

Cara cleared her throat. “Room ok for you?”

Luke hastily swallowed the piece of bread in his mouth and almost choked. “It’s fine! Um. I do appreciate you letting me stay here.”

“It’s fine,” she said. “I owe Leia, and we have an extra room anyway.”

They were saved from more awkwardness by the whirlwind that was Omera and Winta descending on the kitchen to eat breakfast and get Winta ready for school. Luke stayed out of the way until Cara helped Winta get her backpack on and gave Omera a kiss and the car keys.

“Not used to kids?” Cara asked with a raised eyebrow after they were gone.

“I was raised as an only child,” Luke said, “and we lived pretty much in the middle of nowhere.”

Cara had to know from Leia that they were siblings, but to his relief she didn’t ask the obvious question. “Well, you’ll get plenty of practice at the School.”

Cara’s day job was something to do with security, but she taught self-defense classes in the afternoon at the local community center. As far as Luke could tell, it didn’t have a name other than just “the School.” The building had been donated to the town and was maintained by a man named Greef. Apart from the self defense classes, they had tutoring and afterschool programs as well as a number of clubs and sports activities. What they didn’t have was a dedicated martial arts program.

That had been Leia’s idea. Luke needed to lie low, so Leia found him a job to keep occupied and a place to stay with an old coworker until the trials were over. Or the public lost interest in the Palpatine scandals, whichever happened first. Luke didn’t have the teaching experience to run his own program, though, so he was joining with something pre-existing.

Cara dropped him off at the School on her way to work so he could meet with Migs Mayfeld and determine how to incorporate kendo with the man’s fitness program.

“If Migs gives you a hard time, let me know,” she said as he was getting out of the car. “I’ll take it out of his hide.”

“Is that likely to happen?” Luke asked.

“He’s not a bad guy, he just has a stupid sense of humor,” Cara told him before driving off.

It was a big, whitewashed building near the center of town. Immediately inside was a reception area that funneled into two hallways, one leading to offices or classrooms and the other into a large rec area. The receptionist, a soft-spoken woman with bulbous eyes and a pink headscarf, pointed him toward the rec area.

Luke found a big room with a mirrored wall and barre on one end, and a bald man in suspenders sweeping the floor at the other. He knocked on the doorframe to announce his presence. “Migs Mayfeld?”

The other man gave Luke a kind of disbelieving once-over before shaking his head. “Guilty as charged,” he said, leaning the broom against a wall and waving Luke to come in. “I take it you’re the famous Luke Skywalker?”

“It’s Naberrie, actually. Luke Naberrie,” Luke said.

Migs snorted. “Sure, whatever you want to call yourself.”

Luke reminded himself that he hadn’t liked Han, either, at first meeting and the man had turned out to be one of Luke’s best friends.

Migs gave him a look with raised eyebrows. “You know, I’ve all been on the run before, it’s just usually from the cops and not the paparazzi.”

“And people trust you with their children?” Luke couldn’t help but ask.

Migs grinned, showing teeth. “I’m the best damn teacher in this School.”

Unfortunately, that was true.

Over the next couple of weeks they hammered out a lesson plan between them with one or two classes a week at different age levels. The youngest kids, around six to eight years old, would learn the breathing exercise and stances of kendo as well as counting in Japanese. Migs taught him some yoga moves to incorporate as well so the kids got enough exercise to tire them out; that was what the parents were really looking for, the other teacher assured him.

The nine to eleven year olds would be the real beginner class and get to wear uniforms; the keikogi top and hakama bottoms. The intermediate class was twelve on up because Luke had already decided the advanced class was based on aptitude rather than age. He well-remembered what it was like to be precocious and not taken seriously.

The uniforms and equipment— shinai bamboo swords, bokuto wooden swords, and padded armor of different sizes— showed up unasked for one day, donated to the community center by Lando, naturally.

Migs was staring at Luke while he put the shinai in a storage closet. “Explain to me again how Lando Calrissian is _not_ your sugar daddy.”

Luke thought about it, used to the man’s high-strung nature at this point. “If he’s my sugar daddy then he’s everyone’s sugar daddy. I know he bought Leia a dress for her interview on 60 Minutes. And he puts a lot of money in Han’s car. Not to mention he bailed out Wedge Antilles after his birthday party went south.”

Migs actually _harrumphed_ , but didn’t bring it up again.

Luke wasn’t interested in being anyone’s sugar baby, but he wouldn’t have minded if Lando were interested in— something. Something more. But it seemed the man was too busy for anything more than flirting, which was understandable enough, if a little disappointing.

Greef wandered by at that point, squinting suspiciously at Migs. “You settling in ok, Luke? Kids not giving you too much trouble?” Greef was recently elected to President of the City Council but tried to spend time at the community center every week.

“The kids are fine, they’re much better behaved than Migs,” Luke said, laughing over Migs’ squawked protest.

Luke wasn’t naturally gifted with children, but it turned out he did all right with them anyway. Mostly he just treated them like tiny adults, albeit easily distracted ones. The older ones could be swayed by logic or the promise of learning rude words in Japanese. The younger ones still craved his approval, which was easier to leverage to retain control of the class.

Omera and Cara’s daughter, Winta, ended up joining his intermediate class and was a great help keeping the other kids focussed. At her suggestion, Luke also joined Cara’s Saturday defense class as an assistant because it was such a large group. Winta wasn’t the only one giggling as he got thrown to the floor a lot in demonstrations, but it was for a good cause. At least, that was what he told his bruises.

It was in the middle of a video chat with Leia one evening that Luke realized he had been in Nevarro for a month. He had a sudden, intense longing for Yoda’s dojo. He missed the feel of tatami mats under his feet and the smell of the cedar trees outside, even the dense humidity. Leia offered to buy him a plane ticket to Japan, but Luke didn’t think he could stand to be there without Yoda-sensei. Maybe someday he would go back. For now, he could only look forward.

“If you really want to cheer me up,” he told Leia, “You’d send me more pictures of Artoo wearing hats.”

“Haven’t you seen enough pictures of that dog by now?” Leia laughed.

“Never,” Luke swore.

* * *

Kids and parents were starting to trickle into the rec room for his Tuesday baby kendo— Migs’ term for the class of kids too young for kendo but would be introduced to the stances and vocabulary— when he realized there was someone new hovering at the door.

It was a man, broad shouldered and muscular from what could be seen under a dark gray leather jacket. He had short, dark hair and a mustache but his eyes were completely hidden by steel-colored aviators. His thighs looked amazing in those jeans. There was also a tiny little boy clinging to his legs, which was probably more relevant.

The boy had angled eyes with dark lashes and equally dark hair, a small, flat nose, and very large ears. The keroppi frog tee shirt really added to his general air of adorability. He was so tiny! The kid couldn’t be more than four years old, Luke was sure.

“This is a class for older kids,” he said apologetically to the little boy’s— father? Guardian?

The boy frowned stubbornly, letting go of the other man’s jeans and stepping forward. He made several gestures that Luke abruptly recognized as ASL. _I want to learn._

Luke raised his eyebrows and mentally revised the kid’s age as older than he first thought. The boy was tiny, but had excellent motor skills. Luke wasn’t sure if he was nonverbal, or deaf and could lip-read, but Luke crouched down to the boy’s level and signed back as well as speaking out loud. “I can see that. We can try for today’s class, if you’re sure you can follow along. Ok?”

 _I can do it!_ the boy insisted.

Luke nodded. “Do you need help putting your shoes in the cubby?” The boy shook his head firmly and toddled off. When Luke stood up again, he almost recoiled because the other man was suddenly _right_ there.

How he was conveying such a level of intensity through his sunglasses, Luke had no idea. “You can understand him,” the man said.

“You can’t?” Luke asked in genuine surprise.

The other man ducked his head briefly. “I’m learning,” he said stiffly. “I haven’t had Grogu long.”

“Of course,” Luke said hurriedly. So, a father then. Adopted? Foster father? “I’m Luke,” he said and, like a complete dork, fingerspelled L-U-K-E then followed it with the shorthand sign that he used with his friends; an ‘L’ that flowed into the sign for ‘pilot.’ “You said his name is Grogu?”

To his credit, the other man nodded and fingerspelled G-R-O-G-U for him. He was slow, but there was a fluidity to his movement that spoke of recent practice. “My name is Din Djarin.”

On the far side of the room, a couple of kids started screaming about wanting to stand in the same spot. Luke had to hurry and head that off, reluctant as he was to end the conversation. And then after class, he wasn’t able to do more than tell Din in passing that Grogu had done well and was welcome to come back. Tuesday was always chaos because Migs’ zumba class— very popular with moms especially— was right after baby kendo.

He did notice that Din and Migs nodded at each other across the room when Din was picking up Grogu. Some kind of connection there, for sure.

Luke usually headed back to Cara and Omera’s house after his classes were over, but this time he stuck around. He helped the receptionist, Misty, process paperwork until zumba let out and then offered to help Migs mop up the rec room. The School charged a modest fee for most of the classes, but there wasn’t enough money in the budget for a full-time janitor.

Migs was quick to accept. He didn’t mind sweeping, but he hated mopping, which everyone knew because he complained of it constantly.

“So I met Din,” Luke said as casually as he could manage.

“Oh yeah?” Migs said, distracted as he put away the music player. “He usually comes to town this time of year.”

“He seems… intense.”

Migs looked surprised. “Really? He’s the most chill guy I know.” He frowned a little in thought. “You must have been talking about Grogu, he’s nuts about that kid.”

“I get that,” Luke nodded. “He’s a cute kid. They haven’t been together long, right?”

“No, I think it’s been about half a year or something. I know he got that kid out of a bad situation.” Migs stopped, and turned to stare at Luke.

Luke knew he was blushing and cursed his fair skin.

“You!” Migs pointed accusingly at him.

“What’s Luke done now?” Misty asked, poking her head into the room. “I found that email for you, by the way, Migs.”

“I haven’t done anything!” Luke protested. Ugh, you break _one_ finger on a guy for getting inappropriate with a teen volunteer and they never let you forget it.

“Thanks, Misty,” Migs smiled and then pointed at Luke again. “Luke has a thing for Din!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Unfortunately his continued blushes didn’t do much to dissuade the other two.

“That’s wonderful, Luke! Din is an excellent provider,” Misty enthused.

“You’ll have to learn sign language, though,” Migs added, “I’m pretty sure Grogu’s completely nonverbal.”

“Oh, dear,” Misty looked crestfallen. “And we don’t have an instructor anymore since Ahsoka left. Well, there’s always YouTube.”

“I already know ASL,” Luke said in spite of himself.

Now both Migs and Misty were staring at him.

“It shall be a summer wedding,” Migs intoned.

Luke abandoned the other man to finish mopping the rec room on his own, ignoring the whining. Nevarro was hot in late spring but Luke had still been using a bicycle borrowed from Cara’s neighbor, Luiil, since his first week in town. It meant he didn’t have to rely on Cara or Omera to drive him around.

He had been careful not to mention his annoyance at the lack of a car for fear that one would just ‘happen’ to turn up. It wasn’t only Lando and Leia; Han, Biggs, and even Mon Mothma were always trying to give him things. Luke knew they felt sorry for him, losing Yoda-sensei so soon after Ben had been hospitalized. They probably also felt bad because of the Senator Skywalker situation.

As far as he was concerned, _someone_ had needed to talk to the man to convince him to give up Palpatine. Luke had done it so Leia didn’t have to. That he now had another email from vader74 waiting for a response was a problem of his own making.

Back at the house, Luke thought at first that Migs had texted Cara to further embarrass him, because he was in the door barely ten minutes before Din got brought up in conversation.

It was a household where everyone took a turn making dinner— even Winta, though it was usually boxed mac and cheese and supervised by an adult— and the others did the cleanup. (Luke’s cooking abilities weren’t much better than Winta’s. So far he’d gotten away with breakfast-for-dinner twice, because eggs and bacon he could do.)

“Din’s in town,” Cara said as she handed Luke a plate to dry.

Luke looked at her sharply, but she was actually talking to Omera and Winta.

“Do you think he’ll need a babysitter?” Winta asked eagerly. “I’m old enough now! I have my first aid card!”

Omera smiled at her. She was sitting at the kitchen island drinking cocoa, having been the one to make dinner that night. “I’m sure we can ask.” Omera noticed Luke’s carefully blank face and explained, “Din is a friend of the family, he and his young son.”

“I met them briefly today at the School, actually,” Luke admitted. “He seems well-known. Miggs and Misty knew him too.”

Cara rolled her eyes. “Everyone one in Nevarro knows Din.”

“He’s done many of us good favors,” Omera added.

“And he got rid of the last sheriff who was a real bad guy!” Winta said excitedly.

“He sounds like a real hero,” Luke said, smiling at Winta. Everyone agreed with him, though not without irony in Cara’s case.

* * *

Luke had been called a hero before. It was flattering and a little embarrassing.

Din seemed to be widely admired in town— did he like it? It hadn’t seemed to make him rude or presumptuous. Luke hoped he would come to the next baby kendo class on Thursday and they might have more of a conversation.

It was hard not to remember the man’s thighs in those jeans. And his hands looked strong and capable as he signed his son’s name.

Luke was blushing again, he knew. He rolled onto his stomach in the bed and flipped his pillow over so he could press his face into the cool side.

His friend Biggs’ voice echoed in his mind. _You need to get laid, Luke._

“Ugh, fine,” Luke muttered to himself.

**Author's Note:**

> Frog lady was never given a name, so I have called her Misty after the actress playing the role. Also, Luke not thinking that Din wearing sunglasses indoor is a little sketch says a lot about his taste in men.


End file.
